


Stage adoration

by rayfelle



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dancer!Levi, M/M, fan!Eren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-25
Updated: 2015-01-25
Packaged: 2018-03-09 01:19:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3230813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rayfelle/pseuds/rayfelle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The man had no name. He was just the man. The dancer. Always black and mysterious, bending his body in two halves and twisting it, each muscle like that of a panther’s fur – breathing with the light and movement, dancing under the man’s skin as he danced and soared through the air and the smoke of the stage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Stage adoration

Eren had watched all the shows the man had taken part in – some on tape, grey and blurry from the age, only playable on his mom’s old VCR. He knew all the dances from the top of his head, knew when the man jumped, when the music tipped up and then poured down and what the dancer did when it happened. Eren could sing with the choirs when the music was with words, could imagine the man in front of him, in his small room, dancing just as beautifully as he had on the television. On the old tapes and the shows Eren had begged his mother to go to.

The man had no name. He was just _the man_. The dancer. Always black and mysterious, bending his body in two halves and twisting it, each muscle like that of a panther’s fur – breathing with the light and movement, dancing under the man’s skin as he danced and soared through the air and the smoke of the stage.

Sometimes Eren thought that the dancer breathed the stage, the dance. It certainly looked like that to him. The man never changed his face, only when the scene he danced asked for a smile, a face pulled apart in grief and madness and anger--- The man played them so beautifully, so breathtakingly real that it seemed like he really was feeling what his character felt then, when a dagger went through the heart or a lover finally agreed to their love. It was art, some said. For Eren the man was a dream. Something far and untouchable, almost unreal in his beauty and grace.

The last one, Eren had read it in papers and texts smeared with the tears of the man’s fans, this one will be the last one. A final goodbye to the stage and art, a way of living that the man was too tired for. At first he had felt like a part of him died with the titles of old newspapers soaked in the dirty rainwater puddles on the street. But Eren also knew that the man was not immortal – the dance always asked for new blood, for someone whose body was just as young as the spirit dwelling inside the flesh and bone.

He wanted to see the man for the one last time. A front row ticket. Right in the middle and as close as possible. But not touching. Eren could not touch the man; the man was too good for someone like him, too majestic to be touched by a boy who only dreamed of being able to fly just like the man did when he was on the stage. There were wings on the man’s back, colored by the notes of violins and delicate voices of those who whispered the feelings of dying lovers.

For Eren he was freedom. A dream too far to be completed.

He breathes in the dust of the art hanging in the air, absorbs the energy flowing in the air and the hushed whispers of the people around him. The lights dim and the music starts, a ray of light rains down on the first dancers who step on the stage. Quiet footsteps vibrate on the wooden floor, the man is right before Eren and bows in mockery as the script had made him to.

Eren does not blink. He can almost touch the elegance and the raw power the man possesses, the grey eyes that pierce those who he looks at, those who received the small bit of his attention. It’s an honor, Eren thinks, to be seen by those eyes if even for a second, maybe less. The man dances on, the man seems to glow, almost, in dark breezes of light and wind as he moves across the stage and holds the hand of his partner. Magic of sorts, eternal beauty depicted in a body so raw and lean that it took Eren’s breath away and sealed the boy’s heart in a yearning that could not be quenched.

It ends too soon, far too soon the man bows before him. The man’s back bends and his arms reach out on his sides, grasping for something lost in the galaxies hidden from their eyes. His fingers so slim and yet, surely, rough from practice and work, curl in the air and dance on their own, like fireflies in the darkest nights. Even the smallest movement the man makes leaves Eren wanting for more, wishing for just a touch and a chance to sing out his deepest feelings and dreams by the man’s feat and hope to see the melted steel and dark ocean storm of the man’s eyes land on him, just him alone. If even for a second.

As the sea of people stand up behind him, Eren stands as well. His palms sting from the energy coursing though his skin as he applauds, tears stream down his cheeks. Still, the screams rumble on his tongue and somewhere at the bottom of his throat. He wants to reach out if only with his voice alone towards the man, if only once, and ask how had his life warped around the man so fully. Like a cocoon of silk.

And suddenly the world stops around him, it stills and turns black and white, the color drains away from the corners of Eren’s eyes and concentrates before him as flurry of feathers and air, highlights the man as a saint sent from above. His eyes meet the man’s, like he had prayed in his dreams before, and there is nothing else alive and present for Eren.

There is only him and the man.

The breath Eren manages to breath in tastes like hope and miracles. It makes his chest bloom from inside out, makes his fingertips tingle and sweat break out on the back of his neck. There are spots of red, yellow, green and every other color dancing around them both, in this world where only sound seemed to matter. He sees the man’s lips move, letters form into words right before Eren’s eyes, like snowflakes against pitch black night’s sky. There are promises on the man’s lips, explanations and fantasy tails of worlds that were and will come with time.

And just like that the moment ends and the world is in color once more, the tears are still making treasure maps on Eren’s cheeks and something inside of him breaks and shatters as the man gives them one last bow before the shadows of the curtains swallow him whole. It feels like an ending and a start at the same time. No words left to whispers into empty rooms, no more applauses saved for shows Eren had wished to go to.

He feels like he knows the man now, almost as well as the back of his own hand. The man had left him with something, something that had buried itself deep into Eren’s soul and being. _Something_ that blooms with the color of a summer’s evening and warmth of the man’s gaze just before. Perhaps he will now be reborn, perhaps this will be a new road to take down towards a destruction so through it will leave him empty and see-through.

But right now Eren’s chest feels so precious. So dear and fragile like a soap bubble frozen in winter’s air, midway between heaven and earth. He clutches the clothes above his heart so tightly, bends down and curls into himself, laughs until the world seems a bit better, even with the man no longer dancing. No more tears, just the laugher of a newborn babe who has seen how big the world truly is.

Someone laughs with Eren. Laughter like dark chocolate with cherry pieces stuck in the middle, dash of black coffee and bright yellow sunflowers lacing between the pauses. Then a hand tangles in Eren’s hair and tilts his head up, pets the boy like a kitten, careful touches and light scratches that send shivers all the way down to the boy’s heart. The man blinks, his lashes flutter like warm spring wind had just passed between them, and speaks once more, captures all the parts of Eren that weren’t already his.

**Author's Note:**

> ヾ(´･ω･｀)


End file.
